


Détente

by Romany



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Future Fic, Het, M/M, Multi, OT4, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-02-13
Updated: 2007-04-19
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romany/pseuds/Romany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lana and Chloe go to Paris. Lex and Clark follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chloe came home one day to find Lex standing in the middle of the living room, hands in his pockets, face placid as if merely waiting for his limo.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't visit. As in ever," she said.

"That agreement was between Lana and myself. As I recall, you're not on my list of ex-wives." He moved over to the window, brushed aside the curtain. "Nice view. The neighbor across the way has a roof garden."

Chloe put her purse down. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I thought I'd see for myself how my alimony check is being misspent," he said, eyeing her discarded purse. "Vuitton, isn't it? Must be nice to buy in the country of origin."

"You know, I have a job," she said.

"Of course you do." He turned and smiled slightly, advancing towards her. "So do I."

Chloe heard the door crash open behind her. She turned to look and there stood Clark, just Clark in Clark clothes, panting slightly.

"Chloe, are you okay?" he said, grabbing her into a protective hug.

"Clark, I'm fine," she sputtered into the sleeve of his jacket.

Lex laughed, bitter. "Well, well, if it isn't Clark Kent to the rescue. I'm sure there's a kitten in a tree down the street who could use your services."

Clark pulled her in tighter. "Lex, you have no right to be here. Get out."

Lex ambled up, close enough so that all Chloe saw were his shirt buttons. "I have just as much right to visit the little French love-nest as you do, Clark. I don't think you're on the guest list either."

"Clark, let me go." Chloe felt a little claustrophobic. Plus getting to her cell phone in her purse sounded like a really good idea about now.

"Oh...sorry," he said and he released her. She scrambled towards her purse on the entry table, found her cell phone. Oliver's private number was #5 on her speed-dial.

"Admit it, Lex, you were going to hurt her."

"There you go again, Clark, accusing me of the most vicious crimes."

"I should just..."

"Go ahead, hit a defenseless man. You think you're incapable of pain, but you're not."

Chloe turned to see Clark, hand curled in Lex's shirt, fist raised, and Lex with a small metal box in his hand, slightly open.

Hopefully, Oliver had someone local he could send over.

But before she could press 'send', another voice came from the doorway.

Lana stood there, market bags in hand, and calmly said, "Stop it. All of you."

Both Lex and Clark looked over at her, horrified, and backed away from each other.

"Lana..." they both said.

She didn't reply but walked into the kitchen and set the bags down. When she came back, she walked over to Lex, the shawl falling from her shoulders, and lightly kissed him. "Hello," she said.

But just as he started to smile, she reached over, grabbed Clark's hand. She pulled him in for a light kiss and said, "Hello."

Chloe flipped her phone closed, reached for her purse. She'd go downstairs and order a carafe of wine, sit at one of the outside tables. This particular reunion she didn't want to see.

Lex and Clark looked at Lana and then each other, and not finding any answers there, finally looked at Chloe.

"Chloe, come here," Lana said. "You're part of this too."

She made sure not to step on the shawl as she walked over to meet them.

 

At first, they paired off. Or, rather, Lana and Lex did while Chloe and Clark fidgeted, at least a foot apart from each other, on the couch.

She didn't want to look at them on the floor, on top of the quilt that Lana had stripped off the bed. So slow and intimate, the way Lex kissed each fading stretch mark, Lana's hand caressing the side of his face. But then if she didn't look there, she'd have to look at Clark.

Clark's hand reached over to hers. "We could just make out for a while," he said. "Keep busy so we don't have to, um, watch."

Okay, she had to look at him now. "What is this, junior high? This isn't Spin The Bottle, Clark." She looked down at his hand in hers. "Don't worry, I'm sure you're next in line here."

"Hey," he said, putting his arm around her, tilting up her chin. "Is that what you think?"

"One of these things is not like the other, Clark. I'm the only non-ex in the room."

"Uh uh, Chloe. Lex and I never..."

"You don't have to put the 's' in front of 'ex' for it to still be true."

"Well, if you're going to play that game, then that counts for you and me too."

"I know second-fiddle, Clark," she said. "I practically invented it."

"Chloe, it's way more complicated than that, and you know it," he said leaning down, pressing her into the couch, kissing her.

And she let him.

 

Clark definitely had a weird definition of making out. Last time she looked it up in the dictionary, making out fell somewhere between first and second base. Making out did not mean her legs wrapped around his back and his balls slapping her ass. Knowing him, he was holding back, but it sure didn't feel like it.

She didn't care. Not with his hand braced against her hip, his thumb working her clit. Sitting down comfortably for the next day or so was way overrated.

"Clark...Jesus," she said against his neck, his mouth.

Almost there, almost there...

"Hey, sweetie," Lana said, hand brushing her hair aside, tongue in her ear.

And Chloe saw a large but slender hand run up Clark's arm, his shoulder, turn into a fist curling in his hair, pulling his head back and to the side. Lex's mouth there to meet Clark's when he turned.

Clark stilled, whimpered, and thrust frantically, thumb switched to vibrate.

Her hips, only human, couldn't have possibly pushed Clark all the way up, Chloe's back arching off the couch.

But somehow, they did.

 

Chloe took a bottle of Scotch and a six-pack of Coke bottles out of a bag, placed them on the counter.

"Is that tonight?" Lana said from behind her. "I'd forgotten."

She turned to find Lana, barefoot, arms clasped against her chest as if cold. Apparently, today had been a Bad Day.

"We could cancel, Lana. It's okay. It's a weird set-up anyway," she said.

"I went to the park today," Lana said, wandering off to the living room. "There was the most adorable little girl on the swings. Her mother was busy with the baby so she let me push her."

"Sounds like fun," Chloe said, following.

"Oh, it was," she said, lost, hollow. "I had the best time."

 

Chloe lay face down between Lana's legs, Clark pumping her hard from behind, Lex adding extra pushes from behind him. They'd all agreed that no talking was best, but Lex just couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Fuck, so tight...God, Clark, fuck her...Spread her wider, Chloe, I can't see..."

But he never talked to Lana that way. Between them, all murmurs and little kisses.

Chloe looked up to see Lana, hair wild, staring wide-eyed.

Reaching out her hand, difficult because she really needed both to brace, Chloe said, "Hon, be here with us, okay?"

Lana looked down, smiled.

When Lana leaned forward to kiss Clark, Chloe found it hard to breathe at that angle. And when she heard their mouths meet above her, she felt them both come. 

Later, when she had Lex's cock in her mouth, he muttered, "Some things never change."

And she knew exactly what he meant.

 

Chloe picked up her extension at the bureau. "Chloe Sullivan," she said.

"Are you up for lunch?" Lex said on the other end. "I'm in town."

"I don't think that's such a good idea. You know the arrangement."

"Screw the arrangement," he said. "It's just lunch between friends."

"We're not friends, Lex."

"Just meet me at Papa Maya in half an hour." And he hung up.

 

"I never figured you for Tex-Mex," she said as she sat down. "Have you eaten here before?"

"LuthorCorp tries to keep abreast of the latest trends, even in the food industry."

"American cuisine in Paris is hardly new, Lex. Even I know that."

"Be that as it may, I'm in the mood for a burrito. Paris cannot deny me that."

Despite herself, she smiled. "The definition of burrito changes with the continent, Lex. You'll find out."

Later, she asked, "How's the burrito?"

"It has carrots in it," he said as he poked it mournfully with a fork.

 

"Why don't we go back to my place for an digestif?" Lex suggested. "My private bar has a superior selection, plus a view of the Seine."

Oh boy. "Lex, I agreed to lunch, not a nooner. Besides I'm not your type and we both know it."

He leaned forward, smiled. "You really think I'm that shallow?"

"Brunette, slightly crazy...Okay, that last one doesn't quite explain Clark." Unfortunately, these days, it did explain Lana.

Lex's mouth turned into a grim line, his eyes narrowed. "Don't talk about him."

"All is not well in LexandClark land?"

Lex signaled for the check. "Hardly. He's quite adamant about observing the arrangement."

"What goes on in the room, stays in the room."

"Precisely, outside he's the same self-righteous asshole he's always been."

"I don't see him that way."

"You wouldn't."

"What, you think I'd be impartial? Lex, I know where my loyalties lie."

"Do you?" he said. He took a sip of water and gazed out the window. "If Clark had..." His voice trailed off, broken and fading.

"If Clark had what, Lex? That child wasn't meant for this earth and you know it."

He took out his wallet, paid. Looking back at her, he said, "It's Clark that wasn't meant for this earth." He let out a small laugh, the laugh of a man who knew the punchline to some sick joke. "And so few of us know that."

Chloe stood. "Thanks for lunch. I'm going to the ladies'."

Lex stood as well, reached out and touched a strand of her hair. "You could dye it, you know, keep your stereotype of me." He leaned in, a whisper. "It's horrible to have your worldview shattered. I know."

She turned and walked away.

 

She almost made it to the door when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Lex spun her around and pushed her against the wall, between the doors marked femmes and hommes. His face calm, but his eyes fervent and wild.

"Lana's not the only one who lost a child, Chloe."

She didn't know whether he was appealing to her or accusing her. Probably both. Somehow Lex could believe five different things at once.

"God, Lex, I'm sorry," she said.

"You should be," he whispered, hands pinning her shoulders. "You should be." And this time, the whisper was against her mouth.

 

Lex had locked the door to the ladies' room and had his hands underneath her ass, her legs around him, as he pushed into her. Her head rested against a case stack of Jarritos, Mandarin flavor.

And for all the times he spewed dirty nothings in the room, all of them there, this time he was utterly silent, even as he came.

Only when he had his back turned to her, washing his hands at the sink, did he say anything.

"We're all capable of betrayal," he said. He unlocked the door, turned. "Even you."

 

One day she found Lana in the Degas room of the Orsay, her face glowing in the blacklight, as if the pastels emitted a light of their own.

"How long have you been here?"

"Only a few hours," Lana said, smiling. The tourists and video cameras parted around her. "I just need to see."

"See what?"

"How he could see them and not see them," she said. "They're all so beautiful, but they're creatures, as if they're not women anymore." She paused. "He thought he owned them, in a way."

"No one owns you, Lana."

"Who said I was talking about me?"

 

Lana and Clark were curled against each other on the quilt, gently kissing, hands brushing each other's back. Chloe couldn't look.

Which she didn't for very long. She was busy.

"Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" Lex said softly as he leaned on one elbow, fingers teasing her cleft.

"And I would let you why?" she said.

"Because I know what I'm doing," he said along her shoulder. "That's why you're thinking about it."

 

"Relax," he said as he pushed in, slowly. "Deep breaths."

Stretch and burn and nothing like the fingers that he'd pulled out just moments before. Just a tingle of okay, but the rest not.

"What a rip off," she said into her elbow. "I want a refund."

"Don't...don't make me laugh," he said.

"I thought we were supposed to relax."

"No, you relax. I'm working."

"That sounds like fun."

He had a hand wrapped around her, fingers working her pussy and clit. "It'll get fun in a minute," he said.

And when the burn didn't go away exactly, it expanded into a whole lot of okay and really intense until she started pushing back. Intense went up a notch, ten notches.

"I knew you'd like it," he said, moving with her, the wrap-around hand speeding up.

God, she hated it when Lex was right.

 

Still trembling from the orgasm, she slapped at Lex's hand that was still working her. "Don't you know when to stop?"

"Not really," he said, but his hand slowed down.

And then, still spooning, he whispered along her neck, "Jarritos, mi corazon...burritos with carrots..."

Her eyes flared open. "Shut up," she hissed.

And for whatever freaky reason, she glanced over at Clark. Of course he heard, but it didn't have to make sense.

"Jarritos...burritos..." Lex whispered again.

Clark, Lana against his chest, just looked at her, startled, suspicious.

"Chloe," he said. "Come here." He motioned to her. "Over here by us."

Of course she went, crawling into Clark's open arm. Lex was a big boy, he'd follow or he wouldn't.

He followed.

 

She and Clark sat on a park bench in the Jardin des Tuileries eating ham sandwiches, pigeons darting about their feet.

"Chloe, be careful," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know." He pulled off a bit of bread and lightly tossed it, the pigeons following.

"Clark, it was just lunch. What's the big?"

"It's never just lunch with Lex. I know." He took a sip of his Coke, swallowed. "Burritos, huh?"

"Clark, tell me you didn't..."

"No, I didn't. But I should've never had lunch with him in the first place. He just...twists everything around. He's never the asshole, you are," he said. "And then he has you believing it." He took another sip, looked away. "It sucks."

She munched her sandwich for a while, watched a nanny walk by with a little girl, bows in her hair. The same age that Clara would have been. Lex had insisted on a nanny; Lana hadn't wanted one.

Clark watched them go by too. "Same color hair," he said. "God, if I'd just..."

Chloe put her arm around his shoulder and he laid his head against hers.

"So what did you have?" she asked.

"Prime rib. With horseradish."

"And Lex still made a move on you? With that breath? That's not determination, that's storming the beach at Normandy."

Clark laughed, laughed until the bench shook. "I miss you," he said. "Sometimes so much."

"I miss you too, big guy." And her hand ruffled his hair.

He put his arm around her too. They sat there for a while, finished their sandwiches.

"So, um, what Lex did the other night..." And he blushed.

"Yes?"

"You liked it?"

"You mean the whole backdoor thing? Surprisingly nice."

"Do you think maybe...?" He turned, voice suddenly low, a little rough. Her nipples suddenly tender against her bra. His mouth by her ear now. "What goes through my head..."

"You don't have kinky, porno thoughts, Clark." Although flashing on Clark's internal porn made her want to take that large hand that was just made for sex and put it right there.

"You don't know what I think," he whispered, his breath ghosting her jaw. "I could just whisk you away to that rooftop over there and make this that kind of lunch." His mouth worked its way up to hers. "I want to, Chloe, so bad."

"Why don't you?" she whispered back. What was right and fair could just kiss her ass right now. And Clark should kiss her ass right now too, little nips and bites. And she did reach for his hand, moved it up her thigh.

"That's not the arrangement," he said, pulling away.

He stood, neck flushed and his hard-on there for all to see, for her to see.

"It wouldn't be fair to Lana." He closed his eyes briefly. "Or to him."

"Like you care what he thinks," she said. Okay, so she was twelve. But she'd never been this wet when she was twelve.

"I feel for him, Chloe. I wish I didn't."

"What, as in sorry? He's just playing you, Clark."

"It's more than that. Twisted and gross, yeah, but it's more."

"Clark, oh Jesus..."

"I'll see you later," he said, leaning down, brushing her lips.

And then he wasn't there to say goodbye to or otherwise. 

 

One day she came home to find Lana sitting with a glass of red wine at the café downstairs, a book facedown in front of her. Seeing Chloe, she smiled that dazzling smile she had from before, before everything.

"Well, aren't you quite the Parisienne?" Chloe said, sitting down next to her. And she looked it, hair falling about her neck, casual elegance. Chloe never managed anything beyond An American In Paris. She had that look down pat.

"I've been painting again," Lana said.

Chloe ordered her own glass. "I hope you opened up the windows."

"Just a little. It's going to rain," she said.

On cue, the first drops hit the canopy above them. "That's just this side of eerie. Talk about timing."

Lana took Chloe's hand in hers. "Even the rain would wait for you," she said.

Chloe looked at her, her eyes shifting gold and warm within the hazel. "Why, Lana Lang, are you trying to romance me?"

Lana leaned in, just the edges of her mouth twisting up in a smile. "I don't know. Is it working?" she said, voice soft and low, teasing. "You're the writer." And her voice fell softer still. "I'm just good with my hands."

"You could get me drunk first and then invite me up to see your etchings," Chloe said, quite enjoying what one of those hands was doing to her knee.

"We have wine upstairs..."

 

Rain fell hard against the window, canvases haphazard along the wall. The sheets rucked up and sweat stained, blankets long ago kicked to the floor. 

Lana straddled her, fingers pumping. "Come here," Chloe said, hips rising,

"No, I want to see you."

"I want to see you too," Chloe said, taking Lana's other hand, licking the fingers, and putting it by Lana's clit. "Do it."

So dirty and intimate the way Lana let go for her. Chloe supplied most of the talk, but Lana made up for it in action. Seeing her, head falling back, breath hitching, enough to make her tighten and rise.

"Finish..." Chloe said, shuddering down, as Lana rolled off and to the side.

"Going to..." Her knee pulled up and her hand jerked faster against herself. "Kiss me," she said.

Chloe did and disappeared into it.

This her Paris, this her now. Just them.

"I love Paris in the rain," Lana said later, retrieving the blankets from the floor.

Funny, to Chloe, Paris in the rain smelled like motor oil and chestnuts. "I love you in the rain," she said.


	2. Chapter 2

Lex had his head between Lana's legs while Lana, on the floor, leaned back against the couch, bucked. Outside a dog barked and boots skidded down the pavement. Chloe could hear the clink of plates from the café, the windows wide open.

"So do you think we can try?" Clark said from behind, breath against her ear, hands spanning her waist.

Chloe arched back up against him. "Okay," she said, "but go slow."

"Fingers first?" He brushed her ass, hesitant. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Just do this for a while," she said, moving one of his hands down to her pussy, rubbing her clit against it. "Warm me up to the idea." God, she shouldn't have to tell him.

"Don't freak, Chloe, please." He started to pull away. "It's a stupid idea. I'm stupid..."

Chloe grabbed his hand, rubbed harder, kept him there. "Just reach back and get the stuff, Clark. You're going in, mister, so buck up."

"Oh God," he said, his cock riding her crack. His thumb rubbed her clit while the tips of his fingers went in and out, just wet times eleven, all scared and turned on and talk about a rush.

If she could just get him to talk dirty, say the words 'fuck' and 'cock' and 'ass' with lots of little 'Chloe's dropped in for flavor, she'd come into next week and not come down for a year. One 'God' was about as good as she was going to get.

"Clark, what do you think you're doing?" Lex said, walking over from the couch. He crouched down in front of Chloe as if his mechanic asked him to check out the engine in his Ferrari.

Clark stilled behind her, put his forehead against her shoulder. "Lex...not now," he said.

Chloe looked at him, but his eyes were focused on Clark. "We've got it covered, Lex. Shoo!"

Finally looking at her, he said, "Maybe I should just let the blind lead the blind." He smiled. "Trauma builds character, they say." He paused, leaned down, sucked a nipple, kneaded the other breast. "But what kind of man would I be then?"

"Hey, it's my ass," Chloe said.

"So it is." He moved further down. "But this is my tongue." Moving Clark's hand away, he dragged his tongue across her clit. "Clark might need both hands for this."

"Lex, I don't need your help. I've done it to you often enough."

"Three times hardly makes you an expert, Clark," he said, voice muffled but moving up.

"What...what are you doing?" she said as he moved against her, mouth along her neck.

"As much as I'd like the close-up," he whispered, "I'll take the bird's eye view."

And with one thrust, he was in. "Both of us, Chloe. This isn't your private time."

"Lex..." Clark said, gripping her shoulders. "Be an asshole some other time."

Ignoring him, Lex thrust again. "Tell him it's okay, Chloe. Tell him you still want it."

And Clark was still there, cock hard against her ass. "It's okay, Clark...I'm a big girl."

"Just...just tell me to stop," he said, the tip pushing in, big and slick.

"It's okay..." she said again, leaning against him, Lex pushing her back.

"Slow...go slow..." Lex said. And Clark groaned, gripping, pushing in further until she was fuller than she'd ever been, anywhere, anytime. Burned with a good fire, burning.

"You love it, don't you?" Lex said. "Fuck..." No names. He could have been talking to her or Clark. Both. One hand worked her clit. Hard.

"Chloe...Oh God, Chloe..." Clark said into her hair.

She rose and fell. Rose and fell again and didn't come down, only held by four hands, two cocks. Monkey in the middle and she didn't care, didn't care.

"Filthy...fuck...dirty..." Lex said, eyes glazing. "Do it...feel you..."

Clark turned her head to the side, kissed her, whimpered. Chloe splayed across him, wide open and full.

"Close...you're close...feel you...always knew...always..." Lex said, pushing her back further, as if could push through her.

"Filthy, filthy boy!" Lex said as he came. And Clark stilled, thrust once, almost not careful, and came too.

"Good?" he whispered behind her as Lex pulled out, stood, and walked away.

"Yeah, good," she said, floating down. He pulled out slow, held her. Just great, Clark, wonderful. Yeah. Shit.

He whispered again. "Thank you. You're amazing."

"Hey, you too," she whispered back.

Lex, somewhere near, laughed. "Don't mention it," he said.

And oh God, Lana...

Chloe sat up and saw Lana still leaning against the couch, looking at her. Going over to her, she said, "Hon, are you okay? You could have..."

"No, no I couldn't," she said, blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"I'll make it up to you later," Chloe said, opening the blanket and curling up next to her. "Promise."

"There's nothing to make up. It's all part of the arrangement."

"I know but..."

"Chloe, I'm fine."

"Okay," she said. "If you say so."

Lex found his scotch, downed it, looked at the two of them. "Don't the two of you make the picture?"

Clark, rising from the floor said, "Lex, it's getting late. I'm sure they're tired. We should go."

"Our separate ways, of course," Lex said, making no effort to retrieve his clothes from the chair where he had neatly folded them earlier. "As always."

"Those are the..."

"Rules. Yes, Clark. I'm well aware." He poured himself another scotch, went over to the window. "Beautiful night."

Lex was a pure shit, a manipulative shit. She knew this. But the way Clark looked at him, hesitated, mouth open, looking for the perfect words that never came to him, not where Lex was concerned, she said, "We've got extra blankets, pillows. We'll do café au laits in the morning, okay?"

She stood, yawned. "Come on, hon, let's go to bed." 

Lana stood too. "Good night, Lex. Clark. See you in the morning"

After she and Lana had brushed their teeth, settled in, she heard low murmurs from the living room. Waited for the argument that never came. Eventually, silence.

God, the look on Lex's face was so worth the headache of having him there in the morning.

He owed her one. And he better remember that.


	3. Chapter 3

Chloe came home to find Lex and Clark sitting down at the café, with at least three wine bottles haphazard on the table. And two wine glasses. Since when did Clark drink? Except when he'd been dipping into the RedK. A little dab'll do ya. Crap.

And he'd dressed up too, dark blue silk button-down, designer jeans, tousled hair. Totally not Clark attire. Just Mr. L'Homme Vogue, fresh off the runway. Breathtaking. Double crap.

And they were arguing, harsh American voices rising above the murmured French.

"...but they're people, Lex! You've got no right to play God!"

"You've never been one for the big picture, Clark. Do not presume to judge me. And who's the one playing God here? You make decisions every day, the ramifications of which...Well, that's the last of the wine. Should we order another?"

Okay, just color her confused. Same old argument, minus the fists and the breaking of things.

"Hey, Chloe!" Clark said, smiling, honest and open and just what the hell was going on? "Pull up a chair..."

"I'll get the check," Lex said, rising. Stiff and curt. He rose and went inside, the careful walk of the mobile side of plastered.

"Hey, big guy, you're here early." Clark, since this whole thing started, had been Mr. Last Minute. Always. Sometimes Lex would arrive early, sit down for a cordial espresso with her before following her upstairs. But this afternoon was she ever the persona non grata here.

"What's up?" she said as she hugged him. And he smelled nice and expensive, lavender and moss, quadruple digit personal care product, hair slightly damp.

"Clark?" she said. "Please...just no...don't tell me..."

"I won't," he said, pulling away, looking down. "Just...don't ask. Please, Chloe, it's complicated."

"You know better, Clark! What the hell were you thinking?"

"Chloe...please...I can't..."

"One time thing, Clark, I get it. It's okay." Like she could say that she hadn't oopsed with Lex that once. Clark didn't get on her case then. Just back off like a good little friend, Sullivan, and the boys'll be spitting at each other again in no time. The world just has to balance like that.

Clark didn't reply, just kissed her on the cheek. "When's Lana home?" he said.

"Any minute. She might be getting an opening at this little gallery in the Deuxième."

"Hey, that's great! I'm happy for her." His smile returned and his arm went over her shoulder. "Here's Lex. Let's go up."

Lex, once again, said nothing to her but merely followed when she opened the door.

 

Lana placed the market bags on the counter, took out the bottle of Scotch, poured Lex a glass the way only ex-Mrs. Luthors could and set it in front of him. Lex stood by the window, hands braced against the sill. The glass balanced, precarious, on that sill.

He'd said a total of three words in the past half hour.

Was he wasted or what?

Lana made a salad. She and Chloe sat down to eat.

"Clark, you hungry?" Chloe said.

"No. No, I'm good." He stood in the center of the room, staring at Lex's back like it was a cup of tea leaves or something.

"Hey," he said softly, moving behind Lex, putting his hands on his shoulders. "You okay?"

Lex turned slowly, took one of Clark's hands and placed it against the side of his face, leaned into it. Closing his eyes, he said, "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"You've tried, Lex. A few times." Clark rubbed his thumb along his cheek. "We've had a rough start."

"If I wanted you dead, Clark, you would be." Regret and fear just permeated the man. Chloe took her fork out of her mouth, set it down.

"Is that what you want?" Clark said.

"No," Lex replied, soft, a whisper.

"Oh Lex..." Clark leaned in, kissed him.

Okay, she was putting a stop to this right now. But before she could stand, Lana placed her hand over hers, shook her head a firm no.

Sick of their soap opera, just sick of it. She wasn't going to watch, wasn't...Manipulative jerk. Bastard. Asshole. She couldn't find a word in the English language for him. God, Clark, how old are you that you fall for this shit?

Lex started undoing the buttons on Clark's shirt, pressing the kiss harder, pushing him back. "Clark..." he said.

How was she supposed to finish her dinner now?

Lex flung his coat aside, uncaring, fell to his knees, undid Clark's belt. Clark sighed, trembled a little.

Well, Clark loved to be blown and two mouths were better than one. She started to rise again.

Clark looked over at her. Shook his head and mouthed Not Tonight. He looked back down at Lex, smiled, caressed the back of his head.

Now Lex could suck Clark off fast, all while managing to say the dirtiest things, but not now. Tonight, he went slow, silent, locking eyes with Clark like some sort of freaking prayer. Jesus come down from the cross. And you know, that's private. A two-person thing, not a floor show.

For the love of God, get a room.

Clark pulled him up, still hard. They still had the mental telepathy going, eye-gazing. Clark took off Lex's shirt, undid his pants. They kissed again. He grabbed the blanket off the couch and laid Lex down on top of it.

Lex finally broke the silence with a "Rough, Clark. Do it rough." And he turned, facing away.

"No," Clark said, low, turning him back, facing him. "Like this." He kissed him again, Lex rising to return it, legs wrapping around Clark's back.

When did Clark get all Quiet Man and confident?

Oh my God. This wasn't new. Not an oops in the afternoon, a new-found rush. They didn't need to get a room because they'd been in a room. A lot. And not some restaurant bathroom. Okay, maybe at first. Chloe tried to drive away the image of Lex at some steakhouse pushing Clark back against a stall, saying, 'Shhh', driving past Clark's defensive horseradish breath, but she couldn't.

Game over. Everybody out of the pool.

"He needs somebody, Chloe. What we have isn't fair," Lana whispered, hand still over hers, a gentle reprimand.

Who needs? Clark? Clark would be okay without Lex, really. And Lex...well he just stepped in it, didn't he, and now he's stuck. Cornered. Back against the wall, the floor, who cares? Back against something. Vulnerable and belly up.

Oh Clark, you have no idea...

"I've got you," Clark said. "It's okay. Let go."

And Lex just went crazy. Crazy at the speed of molasses. Kissing and stroking. All 'Clark' and 'please' and she was just embarrassed for him. The great Lex Luthor with Clark's cock up his ass and begging.

He'd remember the witnesses later. Chloe was damn sure about that.

None of them should have taken off the safety gloves with Lex. Least of all Clark. Safety gloves, safety goggles...the only safety that should be off around Lex was the one on a gun.

And then she heard something terrible among the whispers and groans. "Love" emanated from the floor and someone echoed it back.

Oh Clark, he got to you. He finally got to you and you caved. You caved...

She turned away.


End file.
